


Stargazing

by casstayinmyass



Category: Django Unchained (2012)
Genre: Camping, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Older Man/Younger Woman, Reader Is Big Daddy's Daughter, Riding, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 16:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: You and King sit by the fire late one night, and you're reminded of your crush on the older man. King struggles with his attraction to you, the precocious southern young lady, but it's so hard not to give in to you.





	Stargazing

Your arms slide behind your head as you gaze up. The mountains you had been travelling through for the past week allowed for a beautiful view of the vast open sky-- it reminded you of your favourite thing to do when you were a kid. When you were maybe 13 or 14, you used to run out into the fields on a hot Southern night, and lay down in the grassy areas, listening to the grasshoppers hum and the crickets chirp. The sky was so open... life back then, when you didn't understand what was happening around you, was blissful. Then, as you grew, those late nights of calm were disturbed by the fights you started to have with your father, after realizing what was going on. Shouts disrupted the night air, the sound of crying echoed, and the sharp crack of a whip woke you from your daze.

The stars looked much prettier now that you no longer lived on your family plantation. The sound of low humming pulled you from your stargazing, and you turned to look beside you.

"My apologies," the doctor smiles, "Did I wake you from your thoughts?"

"It's alright," you smile back, "They weren't the most pleasant thoughts, so you're welcome to keep distracting me from them."

King chuckles. "In that case, Miss Bennett, can I pour a fellow insomniac some coffee?"

"Thanks," you nod, and the bounty hunter continues humming as he pours two tin cups of the black liquid. Being from the South, you mourn the lack of copious amounts of sugar and cream, but such luxuries are something you're going to have to get used to living without now.

"What's that tune?" you ask, graciously accepting the cup.

"That?" He shakes his head, taking a sip of his coffee, "Oh, that was just an old German lullaby, nothing special."

"What's it called?"

"It's called Wiegenlied. Do you like it?" You nod, and King smiles, resting his back against the rock by the crackling fire. "For the life of me, I cannot even remember the words. I just remember liking the sound of it when I was a boy, and it stuck." 

"How old were you when you first heard it?" you ask.

"You know, you're just as curious as Django," King chuckles, and curls his moustache thoughtfully. "I was very young, I cannot remember exactly how old I was, Fraulein."   
You nod, and he looks over at you silently, taking in the way you look into the flames.  "Are you alright?"

You're quick to look up and blink away any melancholy. "Of course."

King hesitates. "I only ask because you..." he gestures, realizing the blunt way was the only way to put it. "Well, you shot your own father eight days ago."

You feel your jaw clench as you think of your father, Spencer Bennett, and how he used to like the name "Big Daddy". You remember lining up the gun eight days ago, how Dr. Schultz had let you be the one to take the shot as he high tailed it away from the burning cart. You feel sick to your stomach, but it's not from recalling the blood that splattered over his cream white shirt that night. It's the way he treated all those slaves, all those people he owned. It had taken you years to understand the extent of the horror you had been complicit in growing up, but when you did, you couldn't stomach it any longer.

"The bastard and his band of bagheads deserved it," you grumble, taking a long drink, and King raises his glass slightly.

"Wunderbar, I agree." He goes to drink too, but his eyes soften a little. "Still... he was your father."

"Big Daddy was no more my father than the man who raised me from birth when my mama died. A slave. Someone my father owned, who was twice the man he was. If I had to make that decision again-- kill him and free all those people myself, I would."

King nods slowly, and finally drinks, before setting his coffee down. "Do you miss home at all?" 

You watch a flame catch a smouldering twig. "A little."

A comfortable silence settles between you two, only the wind whistling through the mountains and the sounds of Django's soft snoring filling the air around you.

You steal a glance the bounty hunter's way. He's attractive for his age... almost as old as your father had been, but he had a youthful twinkle in his eye, with an infectious smile that could melt the snow in North Dakota. You had found yourself developing something of a crush on the older man these past few days.

King had taken you under his wing, but he was struggling with his perception of you. What were you to him? Ah, it didn't matter. Tonight was for the stars, not for worrying over trivial things that probably weren't even crossing the young girl's mind. 

"May I ask... what you were thinking about earlier?" King asks, settling further into his sheepskin coat, breath coming out in cold puffs. You exhale through your nose, looking away from him and back into the fire.

"I was thinking about being a kid again. How I used to look up at the sky and think."

"And did you think of anything particularly noteworthy?"

You shake your head. "I was a lonely child. Spent most of my days practicing the violin. Looked after my little sister, before she died of the yellow fever. Not many people came around the house, so I mostly just kept to myself."

"I was very much the same," King muses, "I had one brother. We were inseparable until he was taken from me ten years ago. That's when I decided to get into this business." He tilts his head. "You might say I got a taste for revenge."

You smile. "I think I might a taste for it too, now."

King stares at you, a mix of intrigue and fondness in his eyes. "You must be careful, my dear. Revenge is sweet, there is nothing sweeter-- but it will get you killed."

"You're still alive," you point out.

King shrugs. "Yeah, well I'm the best bounty hunter in the south, I don't count." You smile, and he smiles as well. He then frowns. "Young Django snores louder than a train whistle."

"I think he hasn't had very many good sleeps," you point out, and King nods.

"True. Speaking of, you must be in constant discomfort-- I'm afraid we don't travel with the same pleasantries you're used to."

"It was my choice to come with you," you say, "I could use a little toughening up."

"You're doing a magnificent job with it, too," he teases, "Being the southern belle you are, I imagined you would do nothing but complain for at least the first month."

"I still have three weeks to make up for it," you grin, and he laughs.

"Still. We must find you room and board before winter time comes."

You pause. "I'm staying with you... right?"   
King frowns. "Of course not, I don't want you shot or severely injured under my protection!"

"King," you say, sitting up in full seriousness, "I came along with you two to stay with you two. You can't just dump me off in some state and expect me to live out my days there."

"Not your days, you're still very young..." He falters as you glare, and tosses up his hands. "I can't in good conscience let you travel with us beyond next month. The winter will be harsh, and as much as you don't want to admit it, you are not used to it. Besides, Django has subsequent business in Greenville, and I'll be damned if I'm taking you to that hell on earth." He snorts, finishing off his coffee. "Perhaps I can leave you with Sheriff Gus! He and his wife have a lovely cabin up North, and have always been more than hospitable, I'm sure they would love a daughter to--"

"No," you crawl over to him. You'd only been around the man for eight days, but separating from him now almost seemed to tear you apart. "I..." you blush. "I enjoy being around you. I don't wanna be apart." 

King blinks a couple times, and swallows. "I enjoy your company as well, (y/n). But I'll be able to visit you there."

You crawl even closer, and King meets your eyes, staring into them. "I won't stay somewhere else. If you can't take me with you, you need to leave me to travel alone... with no one around to stop me."

He sighs, feigning irritance. "You're terribly stubborn. Fine, sheiza, you can stay on with us over winter. But if it gets too dangerous, you will stay with Sheriff Gus while Django and I collect the bounty. That is my final word."

"Deal," you nod, and playfully shake his hand. The handshake lingers longer than it should, and you can't help but notice how intently he's looking at you.

"King?"

His eyes flicker down to your lips, before he catches himself. "Mm?"

"What did you think when you met me in Tennessee?"

He exhales, running a hand through his silver blonde hair.

"Well, I certainly thought it remarkable that a young lady of your stature and geographical affluence had abolitionist values."

"No. What did you really think?" you urge softly.

He frowns a little bit, huffing. "I thought..." He seems to contemplate his answer deeply, brow furrowing. You bite your lip, staring up at him, and every second that ticks by brings him closer and closer to you. "I thought you were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he admits, and you place your hand over his, pressing your lips to his. At first, he tenses, but after a minute more of your lips on his, his hands fall to the back of your head, urging you to stay there. His thumb strokes down the back of your neck as he kisses you gently back, again and again, worshipping your lips, until he finally tenses again and moves away.

"I can't."

"What?" you whisper.

"I can't let you do this. I'm too old--"

"You're not."

"--and I feel I would be taking advantage of you. You're so beautiful, so young!"

"I'm not a child."

"You might as well be, I'm twice your age! Meinn gott!"

"I don't care."

"Well, I could never give you the life you deserve."

"What the hell are you talking about?! You just made $2000 from Mean Jake Silverstrike alone!"

"I do not mean money, I mean..." he gestures around, "Lifestyle, care! (y/n)," he hisses desperately, "I can't let myself fall for you."

"Then don't fall for me," you whisper back, and kiss him again. This time, after weak protest, he can't help but allow you to move into his lap, breath quickening as you feel for his buttons. Resigning himself to the fact that he can't resist you now, he helps you with the buttons, getting his shirt open. You move down his chest, pressing kisses to it and down to his stomach. His eyebrows move together, and he lets out a panted breath, careful to control himself. You then move back up to his lips, and he grasps your back, rolling you over so that you're on top of him and he's laying down. Taking advantage of this position, you reach back and untie your dress so that your breasts come free, and he looks at them with so much want it makes you shiver. He's tormented with conflict, and gazes up at you for permission, and you nod eagerly as he takes both in each hand, moaning softly as he rolls them and massages them. You bite your bottom lip hard, rocking your hips against his as he continues to touch you, and with every roll of your hips, you can feel his erection become more pronounced.

"King..." you sigh, biting your lip.

"Meine liebchen, are you certain?" he breathes, and you nod, unbuckling his trousers. With each hand, you slide down his suspenders, and finally, he removes his pants. You groan at the sight of his manhood, and as you take him in your hand and pump a few times, he can only throw back his head.

"When was the last time somebody touched you like this?" you breathe, wrapping your fingers around his half mast cock. He hisses quietly, letting out a needy little noise.

"L-longer than I care to admit," he manages a weak smile, and you smile back, beginning to stroke him. His hands bunch up in your skirts, beneath them to your thighs, and he begins to slide your underclothes and skirts down so that you're completely naked. The cool night air hits your body, perking your nipples slightly, and King puts his hands on your hips, guiding your rocking. You continue to stroke him to full hardness, dragging yourself back and forth on his thigh-- every thrust of your pussy against him makes you wetter, and soon, you can feel that you've soaked the leg of where his trousers are around his knees.

"I--" you blush hotly, and he directs your gaze back to him with a little shake of his head.

"Do not be embarrassed. You're magnificent." 

You sigh, and stroke his precum over his cock, until he squeezes your arm desperately. You then gaze at him with lust filled eyes, and lift yourself up, over him, and sink down on his hard cock. He stretches your walls, and you take a moment to adjust before starting to ride him, laying a hand against his chest as you give him slow, deep movements on top. He nudges his hips up with every push down, reeling from the sensations of being inside someone so warm and tight. You gasp after a few more thrusts, already feeling your climax build. He reaches down, and finds your bud, stroking it gently as you bite back a cry. He begins to grunt your name as he also gets close, and you soon fall overtop of him, chest to chest, as he fucks you from beneath. His fingers bury themselves in your hair as he thrusts again, again, rubbing you with his other hand. 

"King-- King, ah, I need you--"

"I'm here. I'm here, I've got you. You're wonderful," he whispers in your ear, "So, so perfect."

At this, you come with a broken cry, and he stalls for a second, holding you firmly by the hips as you feel his warmth fill you, coating your walls. Your pussy squeezes around him, milking him, and when you're surely both finished, you slide off of him, snuggling up under his arm. He easily fits you in, holding you close to him as you both catch your breath.

"You know, my dear," he breathes, moving the hair out of his face, "You're oddly persuasive."

Burying your giggles and grinning face in his chest, you listen to his heartbeat and the howling wind as you drift off, the cares of the world falling away as his arms tighten safely around your body. That wave of calm reaches you again-- you had found where you were meant to be.

\----

The next morning at breakfast, Django looks up at you two over his stew. Whenever you or King returns his look, he looks back down. Finally, when you go to feed the horses, King gets tired of this, and sighs.

"If you've got something to say my boy, by all means, speak your mind."

Django purses his lips, thinks for a minute, then nods. "So you two're a thing now, huh? You and uh, the one who hitched with us after Tennessee, Big Daddy's lil girl?"

"Me and (y/n)?" King scoffs. "Django, don't be outrageous. Pfft, to think!"

"Don't pfft me, I heard y'all fucking last night--"

"Goodness sake, ' _making love'_."

"Nah, what y'all was doing was fucking. Now I ain't in no place to judge, but we just picked her ass up a week ago."

King sniffs. "And?"

"And... I didn't know you moved that fast, is all."

King raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "I don't... move fast... I wasn't... we're not-- _bah_ , she's not--"

"Not what?" you smirk, coming back to sit down. Django gives a lopsided smile, and nods to you.

"Miss, you's a damn miracle."

"And why is that?"

"This the first time anybody got him speechless."

You giggle at King's pouty scowl, and kiss his cheek.


End file.
